


The Greenwood

by Fabrisse



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Frightfest 2014, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:57:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2548307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James' past is stranger than anyone knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greenwood

**Author's Note:**

> Written for FrightFest 2014 at lj community: lewis_challenge. It's kat_lair's prompt. Huge thanks to Small Hobbit for the beta/Britpick. Any mistakes left are mine, all mine. [\evil laugh] 
> 
> Also, I wanted longer evenings and earlier dawns, so this is set in late spring rather than autumn.

"I knew him." The words were out of Hathaway's mouth before he could call them back. 

Lewis pulled him aside and looked at him. "Well enough that it would be a conflict of interest?"

"I…" Hathaway collected himself. After Zoe and Crevecoeur, he knew better than to give anything less than an honest answer. "I haven't seen him in a very long time. I don't know if there will be a conflict of interest."

Lewis nodded. "How close were you?"

"Not very. And I don't expect to run into anyone from those days."

Lewis said, "If anyone else from that part of your past shows up, I expect you to tell me immediately and step away from the case."

"I'll keep PC Lockhart up to speed should I need to hand over duties."

"That sounds about right." Lewis started to walk back over to the body, when Hathaway made to follow, he said, "You knew him. No need to…"

"This isn't like Will, sir, and I know I'll be able to understand the case better if I see the body _in situ_."

Lewis nodded and motioned him forward.

Doctor Hobson glanced up at them. "The victim is somewhere between twenty-five and thirty. Could be out by a year or two on the young side and as much as five years on the older. Reasonably fresh -- killed just before dawn, I think. Ligature marks indicate strangulation with something very thin, but I can't be certain it's the cause of death until I get him on the table. Do we know who he is?"

Hathaway said, "I knew him as Robin Noble. I'm not certain if Robin is a nickname or his real name, and I admit Noble could have been a stage name."

"Actor?" Lewis asked.

"Musician."

Hobson said, "I'll run his fingerprints, then, just to be safe."

Hathaway started to say something, but then stopped. Finally, "I'll stop by later for preliminary findings," was all he said.

"Not before about three this afternoon. I already have another body on my table from earlier this morning."

Lewis said, "We'll bring you a coffee then."

"And some little cakes," Hathaway added.

***  
They were as good as their word. A strong cup of coffee, prepared just as Doctor Hobson liked it and a slice of gingerbread to go with it were presented to her. She motioned them over to a clean worktable and sat down to enjoy it.

She sighed with pleasure after her first bite and said, "It was strangulation, gentlemen. I found traces of greenery buried deep in the wounds. There was some water in his lungs, and he had a deep gash under one rib, too, but neither of those was ultimately fatal. You're looking for a very thin, very strong vine for your weapon. I've taken samples to see if we can figure out what it was. "

Hathaway went pale. "More than one attacker?"

Hobson said, "That's for you two to discover. I would think there would have to be, but it's possible there's only one. He was found on the river bank."

Lewis asked, "What kind of blade?"

"For the gash in his side? One edge, not serrated, dull knife. It's a cut, not a stab, so length of the blade is difficult to tell without further examination, but probably between two and five inches."

Lewis said, "Concealable, in other words."

"Was there any indication of what the knife was made of?"

Hobson stared at Hathaway. "I can see if there are any remnants in the cut."

Hathaway said, "Please. It can help with identification."

Lewis said, "What, man, you have a database of knife manufacturers based on the steel content?"

Hathaway smiled a little. "Not exactly, sir, but we can usually narrow things down to country of origin based on the proportions of iron to other elements in their steel."

Hobson said, "Ask a silly question, Robbie…"

They finished up their cakes and coffees.

***  
"Lewis," he answered his phone on the second ring.

Hobson's voice came down the line. "Is Hathaway in the office with you?"

"Yes."

There was a long pause. He took the hint. "Sergeant, get us a coffee and a sandwich from over the road." He handed Hathaway a ten pound note.

"I'll be about about twenty minutes. Extra pickle?"

"Sounds great."

He waited until his sergeant closed the door. "Why didn't you want me talking in front of me sergeant?"

He heard a sigh. "I have the fingerprints back. It's a shock that we found them. Robert Nobs, alias Robin Noble, had form for illegal busking, vagrancy, and some petty theft."

"Not surprising, he didn't look particularly well off."

"No."

"What is it, Laura?"

"The fingerprints date back to 1939."

"What? That's impossible."

"That's what I thought. He's definitely under thirty based on the autopsy. And then James said he knew him -- even gave the right name. Well, the right alias."

Lewis nodded and then realized she couldn't see him. "He did and all." 

"I also have the results for the knife. It was bronze."

"That's unusual."

"I know I should give these results to your sergeant, but…"

Lewis said, "Print them out before you go home and come over to mine for a take away. I'll ask Hathaway to join us."

"It's not that vindaloo that burns through your esophagus?"

"Fish and chips or Chinese."

"I haven't had fish and chips for ages."

***  
Late that afternoon, Lewis looked up from the report he'd just finished and said, "You don't have rehearsal tonight or anything?"

"No, sir."

"Come to mine for fish and chips? Laura will be joining us."

Hathaway said, "Surely, you and Doctor Hobson would prefer some time alone."

"Not tonight."

Hathaway raised an eyebrow.

"Laura and me are mates."

"Well, if you had some time alone with her, that could change, sir."

Lewis shook his head. "Are you coming to mine or not?"

"Certainly, sir. I'll bring the beer… no, cider I think. If that's all right with you?"

"Cider sounds fine. Never hurts to have a change."

Hathaway turned back to his computer. There was a long pause. "Can we grab lunch away from the station tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you, but with Doctor Hobson being there tonight…"

"If you still feel that way tomorrow, we can take our sandwiches out to the park. You're buying though."

"Of course, sir."

***  
Hathaway arrived at the same time as Doctor Hobson.

"Good evening, James."

"And to you, Doctor Hobson."

"You know, I want you to try for inspector just so you'll call me Laura occasionally."

He grinned. "But what if I don't pick the right occasions?"

Lewis let them in, and they all started putting out the food before it got cold. Hathaway got the vinegar and salt from the kitchen when he got the glasses, and they all tucked in.

After they'd cleared the table, Hobson brought out a packet of Hobnobs as her contribution to the evening and the printout with the results. She handed them to Hathaway who read them over.

"I suppose it was too much to hope that he wouldn't have been fingerprinted."

Lewis said, "You knew him?"

"Yes, back…"

Hobson said, "You can tell us anything."

Hathaway nodded. "I'm going outside for a cigarette. I need to figure out the best way to explain it."

"Of course, lad."

Neither Lewis nor Hobson could figure out what to say, so they sipped their tea and ate another Hobnob apiece.

When Hathaway came back, the first words out of his mouth were, "I'm 78 years old. When I was six, my mother sent me away to be safe from the Blitz, and I ended up at Crevecoeur Hall." He shook his head and quoted, " _My mother said I never should, play with the fairies in the wood_ …. Boys don’t join in skipping games. We don't know the old warnings."

 

Hobson said, "James, are you telling us you're a changeling?"

"No. I'm one of the ones that wandered in to Faery and came out decades later -- in 1984, at Crevecoeur."

"But, how did you, I mean your birth certificate," Lewis said.

"The estate manager and his wife had lost a child. I was about the right age, my name was James, the same as the name they'd put on the birth certificate. As long as no one looks for the death certificate, I'm fine. My real surname is Villiers, but that James was declared dead in 1945. I found out that my mother died during the Blitz, and my father was already dead when I was sent away -- RAF."

"Was this what you were planning to tell me at lunch tomorrow?"

"Only if I had to, sir. No, what I was going to tell you is that Robin Noble isn't the only person I've recognized recently. I've seen at least one other human who was there with me, and I've seen…" He took a deep breath. "There are two courts of fae: Seelie and Unseelie. Oxford, indeed all of Oxfordshire and most of the ancient university towns have always been Seelie. But if things get bad enough, the Unseelie can challenge them."

Hobson said, "And you think there's a challenge coming?"

"I think it's already begun. Robin was a warning to the Seelie court."

"Is that the ones you were with, the Seelie?"

Hathaway nodded. "Faery isn't nice. The fae lack creativity. They can play music, but they can't write it. They'll steal pictures or rugs to decorate with, but they can't make them. And when they get bored they'll leave it behind."

"Did they leave you behind, James?" Hobson asked quietly.

"No. Robin helped me to escape. Scarlett found me and took me to the house."

Lewis mulled it over. "Are you in danger?"

"I don't think so. The queen liked to play with me and dress me up, but I don't think I was enough of a favorite to be in danger from either side."

Hobson asked, "Would they even recognize you?"

Hathaway nodded. "We're … marked isn't the right word, not really, but you can always tell when someone has been away with them."

"I thought 'away with the fairies' meant insane -- or at least not of this world in some way," Hobson said.

"I was young. Children are resilient, more so than adults, I think. Some of the ones who come back centuries out of time, yes, they're judged insane or feel that they are within themselves."

"You ended up back at Crevecoeur. How old was Augustus Mortmain?"

"Old enough to call me by name when Scarlett brought me to the house. Old enough to be shocked." Hathaway said, "I was probably his first victim. He was 12 when I came to the estate. That's why I was wandering in the woods alone. To avoid him. Once I came back, though, I was untouchable. I kept the other kids from going to the part of the woods where I'd disappeared and within a year or two, everything seemed normal. I didn't know about the other kids. Not until much later."

"Even if you had, you were a kid yourself," Lewis said.

"Sir, if we don't stop them, I think we'll end up with three more victims in Oxfordshire. The Unseelie are staking the territory for a battle, not that the Seelie would stop them."

"Could we have already seen any of them? Would they even be within our purview?"

"Part of my job is checking to see if there have been other similar murders. None after 1978 when there were several all over England. There weren't any here, sir."

"And your theory is they were battling for control?" Lewis asked.

"Yes, sir."

Hobson looked between them. "Can we stop them?"

Hathaway said, "I don't know."

***  
The next evening when they finished work, Lewis got into Hathaway's car with him. He had noticed that Hathaway had changed from his work clothes into something more casual. 

"Sir?"

"You're planning something. Whatever it is, I'm not letting you do it alone."

Hathaway started to say something, then quietly started the engine. "It's risky, sir."

"I'm old enough to take me own chances, James."

As they wended their way through Oxford traffic on the way to Crevecoeur, Hathaway put on some music. 

"Your band?"

"The one I was in at university." There was an extended guitar solo. "Robin Noble taught me that."

"In fairyland?"

"Yes, sir. They admire music, so he taught me. Of course, I was at school before I got my hands on a guitar again, but the muscle memory was still there."

There was another silence. "Sir, this isn't the police force. Tonight, you have to follow my lead. Do what I say at the moment I tell you to."

"What's going to happen tonight?"

"I don't know. What I hope will happen is that I find the thin spot between the worlds before I step through it. Then I'll set up with my guitar and play until someone comes to join me."

Lewis said, "Join you in playing?"

"Possibly, or just join us to listen. Everything I play tonight is my own music. They can't have heard it before, so it's more likely to pull them out. Then I ask if I can speak to the queen."

"Does that mean you have to go with them?" Lewis sounded a little sharp.

"No, sir. Never. If I can't speak to someone from the court, I leave them a gift from us and walk away."

"All right, then. I would have changed into something more practical if I'd known I'd be tramping through the woods."

"You can stay with the car, sir."

"Not a chance, lad."

***  
Lewis was happy Hathaway had folding campstools in the boot along with his guitar; he didn't fancy sitting on damp ground at the best of times and certainly not in his work suit. They'd walked along paths only Hathaway had been able to see, stopping frequently. 

When they finally stopped for good, Hathaway pointed at a spot on the other side of a ring of mushrooms. "Do you see it, sir?"

"What am I looking for?" 

"Step toward me, but avoid the mushrooms."

Lewis did as he was asked and for just a moment thought he saw "An edge? It's almost like a picture glued back together."

"That's it, sir." Hathaway unfolded the camp stools and set them across from the anomaly. "Whatever you do, sir, whatever you see, don't go any closer than this. Don't step into the mushrooms. There's a reason they're called 'fairy rings' and listen for my voice only. Any other voice you hear, no matter how familiar, would be an illusion."

Lewis nodded. "Your manor, Sergeant."

Hathaway set an alarm on his phone and handed it, along with his watch and a couple of ten-penny nails, to Lewis. "Can't have any cold iron on me. If I seem like I'm about to step into the ring or walk toward that edge, grab my hand. The iron should protect us both."

"Got it. Anything else?"

"No matter what happens, when that alarm sounds, remind me that we need to leave immediately." Hathaway warmed up his fingers with the riff Lewis had heard earlier. He retuned, and then began to play something beautiful and lilting. He saw Hathaway close his eyes and lose himself in the music. 

The next piece was more like an old reel, something to be played at a dance, and Hathaway knocked on his guitar to help set the pace. By the third song, Lewis felt like there was more than one instrument playing. "Hathaway?"

"Yes, they're joining in. You'll start to see them soon."

The first one he saw looked like a pile of sticks in a tunic. It clacked its fingers together to set up an intricate rhythm complementing Hathaway's playing. Slowly, other creatures appeared, some more human looking than others. One had a harp and picked a descant to Hathaway's melody. A fiddle joined in the following piece, picking up the melody while Hathaway and the harpist played interesting counterpoints.

Someone placed a cup of water between Lewis and Hathaway. At the end of the song, Hathaway stopped and said, "What obligation is there to those who drink?"

A tall redheaded woman near the edge said, "None to me or mine. My word is given." 

Hathaway took a draught of water and offered the cup to Lewis. "It is refreshing, my lady. Playing is thirsty work."

Lewis took a swallow himself and tasted purer water than had ever come from a tap or a bottle. "Th…"

"Never say that word, sir, not to the Lady and her court."

Lewis looked at the woman and said, "I liked it."

She gave him a curt nod. "You do not play?"

"No, I'm just here for…" Suddenly, he remembered something about names having power.

"For me, my lady. Isn't that right, sir."

"Yes, sergeant. It is."

Hathaway smiled at him.

"You'll play for us some more, James?"

"I didn't know if you'd remember me, my lady. I'm honored."

She peered at him before saying, "You haven't been happy. You could come back to us."

"I could." He stared back at her and then asked, "Have you something in particular you would like to hear?"

"More of what you were playing."

"May I have audience with you when the set is done?"

"Come back tomorrow and play again. And the day after that. If you keep your side, you may have audience with me on the fourth day."

"You are known for your generosity." He began to play again, only stopping when the alarm sounded on his phone. "Until tomorrow, my lady."

He put away his guitar and stood, bowing briefly and elbowing Lewis to do the same.

When they got back to the car, Lewis said, "Is that it? You didn't even ask her about the murder."

"Sir, they are not human, no matter how human many of them look. I was surprised she gave me so simple a test. She must have really liked the music."

"You were expecting this?"

Hathaway nodded and slammed the boot shut. "I was, or something like it. You don't have to join me, sir."

"Hah, I'll be there. I'll just know to wear jeans."

***  
The following night, Doctor Hobson joined them with her practice clarinet. "I don't improvise well, but I have some lovely pieces memorized. I can let you have a break occasionally, so your fingers don't give out."

"Here are the rules, Doctor. Call me sergeant, call Lewis inspector, and we'll both call you Doctor. Names have power. Don't eat or drink anything without checking with me first. Don't step into the fairy circle, and don't be surprised at how anyone looks."

Once again he set an alarm and handed his phone to Lewis. The fae came out before he'd finished his first song, and Lewis noticed more instruments. On one side of the glade, couples danced. When Hathaway nodded at Hobson, they began one of two pieces they'd played together in the past. 

Two cups were brought out and before Hobson could take one, Lewis stopped her. Hathaway once again asked about obligation and received reassurance before sipping from the cup. It was a sweet cider with some kick. "Sir, you are tonight's designated driver."

"Understood, Sergeant." Lewis noted that the Lady was dancing with the others as Hathaway started a stately pavane.

They left promptly when the alarm rang, all three of them bowing to the Lady as they departed.

***  
On the third night, Doctor Hobson couldn't join them because she was out on a call for another team. The road to the spot between the worlds seemed clearer and shorter to Lewis this time. When they reached the clearing there was a large black dog. It wagged its tail, seeming friendly. Lewis held out his hand for the dog to sniff and took a step toward him.

Hathaway said, "Stop walking, sir. Take a step back toward me."

Lewis did as he was told, but said, "He seems like a nice dog. He was here the first night beating time with his tail."

Hathaway nodded. "He was here last night, too, dancing with the others."

"I didn't notice a dog."

"He's not a dog, sir." He turned toward it and said, "Phouka, were you listening for secrets?"

The dog trotted behind a tree and a few minutes later a man came out, fastening his clothes. "You can't blame the queen for trying, lad," he said to James.

Hathaway said, "I expected someone to try. It's good to see you again."

"You've changed out in the world, Jamie. But you've brought us good music."

Hathaway took the hint and began to play. Nearly immediately, the others came out and began to join in. The cups were offered again, and Hathaway asked the obligation before taking the first sip. "It's mead tonight, sir."

"You making me designated driver again, sergeant?"

"No, sir, but if you can get the bottle of water from my pack, it would be appreciated."

Later, when the music ended and they bowed, the Lady said, "Come just before dawn on Beltane to say your piece, James."

"I shall, my lady."

***  
"I don't like the idea of you going there in the dark." Lewis waited until they were well on the road to speak. 

"Nor do I, sir. I suspect it's her final test."

"What's the plan?"

"To ask her whether war is coming. If it is, to ask her the stakes. Oh, and ask if she knows Robin Noble is dead."

"You're not going alone."

"Thank you, sir." Hathaway drove a little farther before he said, "She's going to try to get me to come with her, to go back to faery. Phouka and the others may help."

"So what do I do to stop it?"

"Have you ever heard of _Tam Lin_ , sir?"

"Is that the one where his fiancee has to hold onto him?"

"Yes, she's usually called Jenny in the poems, and she holds him through all his changes."

Lewis nodded. "If that's what you need, lad."

***  
They found Robin Noble's killer the next day. 

During the interview, Mister Smith, which he insisted was his only name, tried to attack Hathaway twice -- yelling "Fucking Seelie bastard" each time -- and he was currently being held for psychiatric evaluation.

Lewis found himself asking whether the suspect was human. Hathaway assured him that Mister Smith was.

"Did you know him?"

"No, but as I said, we recognize those like us. Well, he could tell about me, obviously. He was touched by the Unseelie, though."

"How can you tell?"

"Seelie madness tends towards odd theories and nature worship. They're more likely to be remanded for dancing naked in the street than for attacking someone."

Lewis said, "With the case closed and all, you don't need to return to the woods tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir, I do. I gave my word. And we need to know if we can expect others like Noble and Smith."

Lewis nodded and went back to writing their report.

***  
Hathaway found both Lewis and Hobson waiting by his car at 4:30 the following morning. 

Hobson said, "Can you eat anything? I made bacon butties."

"Sounds wonderful, Doctor. I had tea and toast already, but I'll gladly eat one on the way back."

"Seems like a roundabout route. Any reason you aren't going through town?" Lewis asked.

"It's May Day, sir. People are already queueing to hear the singing from Magdalen Tower." 

There was a long silence while they navigated their way to the road near Crevecoeur. Finally, Lewis said, "Can you take one of those nails in your pocket? For protection, like."

"She won't come near me, if I do. That doesn't mean you shouldn't hand me one if I start to walk into the circle or wander toward her or the Phouka -- assuming he's there."

"Robbie told me we may have to play Jenny."

Hathaway nodded. "I hope it won't come to that."

He parked by the side of the road and pulled out a camping lantern. Lewis and Hobson had torches with them and among them, they found their way to the edge of the clearing.

Hobson said, "Will we have a long wait?"

"I think she'll come at dawn. You two stay here unless I do something dangerous. And don't feed the Phouka my bacon buttie."

The light came clearer and the sky turned the unearthly, clear green presaging true dawn. 

The queen stepped from nowhere on the other side of the circle. A young man dressed like something from a Pre-Raphaelite painting and a big black dog stood with her. 

She said, "I thought you would come alone, my James."

"My friends will stay where they are unless you try to take me."

"I won't need to take you; you'll come of your own will." She waited for Hathaway to say something and then continued, "Why did you wish to speak to me?"

"I bring you bad news, my lady. Robin Noble is dead. It was a triple death."

"You suspect a war is beginning?"

Hathaway said, "Yes."

"And what do you offer to stop a war, to preserve your Oxenaforda as it is?"

"I hear the courts in America used human surrogates to fight a war with music some twenty years ago. I would be willing to be one of your champions in such a case, to keep death from coming to my city."

The Lady peered at him sharply. "Your city?"

"I have sworn to protect it. Yes, my city."

Lewis saw the dog -- the Phouka -- come stand beside Hathaway and lean against him. Hathaway stumbled a step and entered the circle. 

The Lady smiled. "No war has been declared. The Unseelie have no designs here. But you are forfeit, James."

Over the growling of the Phouka, Lewis and Hobson ran toward him and reached Hathaway at the same time. Lewis slipped a nail into Hathaway's jacket pocket and was pleased to see all three of the fae take a step back.

"If you can hold him until the sun has cleared that tree," the Lady said as the young man marked one with a small knife, "then you may keep him."

Lewis reckoned that it would take half an hour, but he was confident that between them, he and Laura could hold him steady. Then Hathaway changed into a bear. 

For the next thirty minutes, the two of them held fast as Hathaway was transformed. Hobson flinched when he became a snake, and Lewis found himself at the pointy end of the wolf, but they held tightly through all the transformations. The sun cleared the tree, and Hobson let go, exhausted, but Lewis continued to hold onto his sergeant until the Lady said, "He is yours."

Lewis hoped he would never see a face so cold again. She and the young man slipped away, but the black dog stayed until they had all three left the clearing.

At the car, Lewis took Hathaway's keys without any protest from his sergeant. Hobson poured them all cups of tea from a thermos in her pack and handed Hathaway his bacon buttie which he ate ravenously.

As they drove back, Lewis said, "No war, then."

"No, sir. Just one man killing another."

"Then we have a report to finish for CPS tomorrow."

Hathaway grinned, "That's right, it's a bank holiday."

"We can still be called if there's enough crime, but we're at the bottom of the rotation."

"What about you, Doctor Hobson?"

"I'm off today unless something horrible happens."

"Then may I invite you both over to mine for supper? Roast chicken and young vegetables with a syllabub for afters."

Hobson smiled. "Just try to keep me away."

"I'll be there, too, lad."

Hathaway grinned. "Thank you, both."

**Author's Note:**

> It occurs to me that I should mention my influences. Charles de Lint and Emma Bull are two of my favorite modern fantasy writers. There's even a direct reference to Bull's _War for the Oaks_ in the story.


End file.
